Even Though I'll Never Know What's Up Ahead, I'm Never Letting Go
by StarWarrior72
Summary: I'm never letting go. After ROTJ, Luke is having a very hard time letting go of his memories of his father. Happy New Year, and Happy Birthday. This will be posted as exactly on my midnight as I can possibly make it.


Luke lay on the floor of the bare ewok hut and cried. He'd never felt so alone in his life, even with one of his best friends on either side of him. With one hand, he played with the blanket over his body, pulling it up, scrunching it in his hand, rolling over and dragging it back on. He was quite unaware of his friend watching him, until Han put one hand on his shoulder and rolled him over again.

"Hey, Kid. You're muttering something. Everything okay?"

Luke shook his head miserably, "No. Everything's all wrong."

"What's wrong? The Empire's beaten! We won, Luke!"

Luke closed his eyes, rolling over again. This was the last thing he wanted to talk about.

"What is it? You killed Vader and the Emperor! You seemed fine at the celebration." Han rolled Luke back towards himself.

"I don't want to talk about it."

"We always talk when there's something wrong! What's so awful about this time? Don't you feel like a hero? You bested the Sith in a lightsaber duel! You drove _Vader_ through, for the star's sake!"

Luke felt the tears begin to increase in volume.

"What's wrong, Kid? Why all these tears?" Han stopped trying to convince Luke with joking.

"It's not the Jedi way, Han. He was unarmed."

Han supported Luke behind his shoulders and pulled him into a sitting position. "Hey, it's okay. It's okay." He repeated, as Luke fell against his shoulder sobbing. "Now you're going to have a black eye on top of everything else."

Luke didn't hear him; instead he simply continued to wail.

"Shh, Leia'll wake up." Han warned, before standing up, and pulling Luke up with him. "Let's go outside and talk, okay?"

Luke allowed his knees to buckle and fell back to the floor. He shook his head.

"'Kay, Kid. I'm sorry."

Through slightly parted fingers, Luke watched Han sit down next to him again. He leaned on his best friend, trusting Han not to let him fall.

"Luke, even if he was unarmed, you didn't have a choice."

"I did! I-Father!" Luke sobbed, clinging to his friend's arm.

"Hush, hush, your father would be proud of you. He'd know you'd done the right thing."

Luke gasped softly, and it was barely noticeable through his sobs. Han didn't know.

"He was a person, Han. He didn't deserve to die." Luke looked up from his hands, and gazed into his friend's hazel eyes.

Han shrugged, "You can't be sure. He could have been anything under that armour. Probably just a droid."

Luke put his head back in his hands and began to cry again. He sobbed in that position for several minutes before finding the strength to look back up at Han.

"He was a person, Han."

"Nah, probably not," Han was still trying to seem nonchalant, but the attempt was increasingly weak, buckling in Luke's certainty.

"He was a person."

Han opened his mouth to interrupt, but saw Luke's eyes become harder.

"He was my _father_."

Han closed his mouth. Then he opened it again, thought better of it. Closed it, opened it, and finally managed, "Oh."

"I killed my father!" Luke sobbed, throwing himself against Han again. Slowly, cautiously, Han wrapped his arms around him.

"It's gonna be okay, Kid. It's all gonna be okay."

Luke didn't respond, sobbing all the harder.

"At least you made it fast for him. You didn't let it hurt him. I know you wouldn't."

Luke opened his eyes, looking at Han's white shirt, a large damp patch from his tears, slowly spreading. "I didn't. I let it hurt him. He was in pain."

Again, Han was dumbstruck, and his silence made Luke feel worse. If Han had run out of ways to tell him it wasn't his fault… that meant it was.

"Whad'ya mean you let it hurt him?"

"I didn't stab him. I took his mask off. He couldn't breathe."

"Well, he wasn't much of a father. I can understand why you did it. He tried to do you in enough. Got part of you," Han gestured to Luke's prosthetic hand.

"Han," Luke broke off, relapsing into helpless sobs. Han continued rubbing his back until he was ready to speak again. "Han, he saved my life. He saved my life and I let him die. And I let it be painful. I was awful to him! I'm a terrible son…" Luke trailed off.

"No, Kid. You're not a terrible son. You were great to him. He just didn't bother to know that. You would've been great to him if he'd been around when you were growing up."

"He was busy, Han. It's not his fault. It's mine. And it's not just for him either! Look around! Everyone who takes me in dies in some awful way!"

"I took you in. I'm not dead." Han soothed.

Luke grimaced. "Not yet. Everyone else has. Aunt Beru, Uncle Owen, Ben," Luke faltered, "_Father_."

"It's not your fault. You didn't want any of them dead."

Luke hiccupped, "That's beside the point. They're all dead now. None of them can ever come back. I never even knew my father!"

Han seemed to have run out of comforts. But then, Luke reflected, he probably found it easier to relate to an orphan-from-birth to a newly orphaned teenager. Would anyone really understand what he was going through? He hoped not. No one deserved to feel that their parents' deaths were their fault.

Luke realized suddenly that he was still sobbing loudly and clutching at his friend, but the tears had stopped. He pulled back, wiping off whatever hadn't already been removed. Then he bit his lip and lay back down on his mat. He felt Han's gaze boring into his back, but ignored it. He was a Jedi. He was supposed to be stronger than all these emotions washing through him.

He curled back up under his blanket, wrapping his arms around himself, and wishing his shirt wasn't still so soaked from sweat and earlier tears. He was freezing. He considered going to where he'd left his shirt to dry, just in case it had dried out already. He decided against it. All that would do was lose any warmth he'd managed to build up in his blanket.

He felt his shoulders start to shake again. He didn't want to cry all night. He was exhausted. But it didn't seem as though he had much of a choice.

Again, he felt Han's hand on his shoulder. "Kid? You're not feeling any better yet, are you?"

"Not really," Luke admitted.

"Come on, let's go for a walk." Han suggested, pulling Luke to his feet.

Luke nodded, "That's a good idea. But, Han, would you mind if I went myself? I need some time alone. And I don't want you to interrupt your sleep."

Han nodded hesitantly.

Luke smiled weakly and reached for his shirt.

Han wrinkled his nose in distaste. "That's gross, Kid. Here, take mine." He started unbuttoning his own shirt and looked up to see Luke giving him a watery grin.

"And taking your shirt isn't?"

Han grinned back, glad to see his kid brother in a better mood. "Hey, at least you won't be cold." He tossed the shirt at Luke.

Luke looked at the light material in his hands, "Yeah, I will."

Han frowned slightly, "Warmer than you would've been. Take my vest too. It's over by your shirt."

Luke pulled the shirt on obediently; glad that he wouldn't be walking around in his own damp one. Then he found Han's vest and pulled that on too.

He traipsed out of the hut and found his way back to the ground. He turned away from the lights of the village and started off into the trees. He found something about the darkness oddly appropriate. It mirrored his mood, he supposed.

Finally, he ignited his lightsaber in order to see a few feet ahead of him, but the green glow made everything too sickly in appearance, and he turned it off again.

Each step seemed to take him deeper into his dark mood, and he suddenly thought to wonder if he might trigger any more ewok traps. The last thing he wanted was to find himself suddenly in the air again.

At last, turning back, he couldn't see any of the little fires that burned in the ewok camp. As he realized which direction he was looking back in, and where in the camp he had exited, he realized that his feel were carrying him back to his father's funeral pyre.

He turned sharply to his right. He didn't want a reminder of that. Although he couldn't bring himself to believe that he could dwell on it more than he already was. Having walked only a few paces in his new direction, he allowed himself to turn, and continue toward the site.

As he neared it, he found himself moving more slowly, and shaking slightly. He stopped, closed his eyes, and clenched his hands, and gave himself a shake before physically relaxing and starting again. He was nearly to the place when there was suddenly a hand on his shoulder.

He was about to turn around, but before he could even begin to, someone's hand was covering his mouth. On pure reflex, he bit it. Behind him, and to his left, someone let out a soft swear. He tried to sink his teeth in further, but to little effect.

The owner of the hands was turning him slowly to face itself. Luke tried desperately to see them as quickly as possible. But even when he was certain he was facing them, he still couldn't see anything but darkness.

"_Shh." _The person whispered.

Luke pulled back, away from their hand so he could speak.

"Who are you?" he asked, trying to make his voice sound stronger than he was feeling, although the emotion was sadness, and not fear, which was making his voice shake.

"_Be quiet, Luke. Come with me."_ The bodiless voice instructed quietly.

"Who are you?" Luke asked again, consciously trying to project his voice.

"_You'll see as soon as we get to somewhere a bit brighter. Come."_

"I'd like to know now, if it's all the same to you."

The person clamped their hand over Luke's mouth again, and though he struggled, he couldn't get them off him. It was as though they had caught him in a vice. He made a second attempt at biting, but the person didn't acknowledge it with even another swear.

Luke found himself being pushed towards a little camp, where the only sign of intelligent life was a small fire burning beside what looked like a discarded blanket. His captor pushed him down beside the fire, still keeping him facing away.

At last, he took his hand away from Luke's mouth. For a split second, Luke considered yelling. Maybe someone back in the ewok village would hear, and come to help him. But the thought was ludicrous. He had walked too far from the village, and he could fend off whoever this was.

There were, after all, he thought dully, no other Force-users in the galaxy as far as he was aware.

"Who are you?" He asked again.

"In a moment." The person said.

Luke felt one of their hands, leave his, which they had tied behind his back. He thought about twisting, and trying to free his hands, but again decided it was pointless.

"Would you like some caff?"

Luke snorted, "I'd like to know your name."

"Caff?" The person insisted.

"No, thanks. Where are we?"

"Endor."

Luke rolled his eyes. "Well, I know that. Can you be a little more specific?"

"No. I'm not sure myself. I was hoping you could take me back to somewhere inhabited."

Finally tiring of playing helpless, Luke slipped his wrists out of the bindings. "This isn't the way to ask me. I would have done it if you'd simply asked me when we crossed paths."

He started to turn to see the other man, but their hands were on the sides of his head, gently angling him away. Luke shrugged inwardly, and resigned himself to a night of staring into the bush opposite the fire.

"I'm sorry."

Luke shivered, despite the warmth of the fire. His captor's hand was instantly on his forehead.

"Force, you're cold as ice." They said, and Luke was able to see their hands as they snatched the blanket from beside him. The person wrapped it around his shoulders, and he found himself suddenly very tired.

"How long until we can go back?" Luke asked.

"A few minutes. Maybe an hour or two. It depends on when I'm sure of what I'm doing."

Luke yawned, and rested his head on his hands, gazing into the depths of the fire. "As long as I'm back before sunrise, I guess."

"You have to return to your friends." It wasn't a question.

"Yeah. How did you know?" Luke asked.

"I know things about you."

The fire was starting to blur to Luke's eyes.

"What did you do to me? I'm so tired…"

"It was only a gentle push. I'm ready now." The voice said.

"Ready for what?" Luke asked, but the galaxy was beginning to feel insignificant, sleep was the only thing that mattered.

As if from a long way away, he heard the soft movements of someone, presumably on their knees, beside him. He blinked rapidly, and moved to brush his hair out of his eyes, wishing desperately to stay awake, but he was fighting a losing battle. Then the person's hand was on his cheek, gently moving him to face his captor.

The person's face swam before his eyes. He blinked hard, and tried to rub his eyes, but the person gently swatted his hands away, and put two fingers to Luke's forehead. His eyes cleared, and he found himself gazing into a familiar pair of blue eyes.

"Father?" he asked, and his mind tried to race. But it was dragged down by the lethargy that had taken his body. Everything, the entire galaxy, from the most densely inhabited systems to the tiniest bugs seemed to be weighing down on him, trying to push him into sleep.

His father frowned slightly, and again pressed two fingers to Luke's forehead. Luke's vision swam again.

He rubbed his eyes, "Please stop doing that."

His father rubbed his forehead again, "You're not waking up. It should be waking you up."

Luke sighed, and began to drift forward. His father caught him, and supported him gently.

"Luke? Are you all right?"

Luke's brain didn't seem to be working properly. He pushed his father's hands away, and put his head on the older man's shoulder. Anakin's arms surrounded him, pulling him close, and Luke felt the galaxy's weight start to drift away.

"Luke?"

"I'll be okay. Just…tired…" The galaxy was moving more quickly away from him, though he tried to grasp it. Something about the galaxy he was still barely a part of seemed odd. Not wrong, but odd.

"Father? I'm…confused…"

"I am too, Luke."

Luke felt as though he'd found a hold on his consciousness. He could feel his father again, close to him. As he struggled to stay with his father, he felt Anakin brush his forehead again, and his handhold seemed to gain strength. His father continued to caress his forehead and slowly the galaxy came back into focus.

"Can you stand?"

Luke moved his legs weakly, trying to get them under him, and finally managed it. "I guess. Will you help me?"

"Of course."

He stumbled upright, holding his father's hand tightly in his own. His father's other hand was on his waist, gently holding him upright.

Anakin walked forward, and stomped out the fire. Luke looked on blearily, feeling there was something vaguely wrong about it. Something impossible. He turned away, pressing his face against his father. He didn't want to have to deal with it. He'd dealt with enough already.

He felt his father starting to move again, and tried to follow, but he stumbled.

"I'm too…tired."

Anakin had his arms around Luke again, gently lifting, and the next thing Luke was aware of was having his arms wrapped around his father's neck, his head resting on Anakin's shoulder.

"Just tell me if I'm going the wrong direction." Anakin's voice wafted to Luke, as though from a great distance.

Vaguely, Luke thought, _Oh, not again._

But he found himself closing his eyes, starting to fall asleep properly. His father's hand was on his cheek again, but he couldn't bring himself to believe that his father was trying to keep him awake any more.

"Never mind, I'll find your friends. Can you tell me which cabin to find them in?"

"It's…near the center…of the village…" Luke mumbled into his father's hair.

"Sleep now." Anakin told him.

"They won't…know you…" Luke said, finishing on a huge yawn.

"If they won't let me enter, they'll never see me enter."

"You're going to… kill them…?"

"No, Luke, of course not. But I think I'll find it easier to sneak now."

"Oh, yes," Luke said.

"Sleep." Anakin said.

Luke nodded silently, letting his eyes drift closed.

It seemed too soon that he felt someone shaking him, whispering his name.

"Just five more minutes…"

"Wake up, Luke. I need you to wake up before your friends. Wake up."

Luke blinked, suddenly alert, "Father?"

"Oh, good."

"Father! What? What happened?"

"I have no idea. I was on the Death Star, broken and dying, and then I was back in that clearing. How long has it been?"

Luke dragged his body into a sitting position. "Less than a day."

"Good." Anakin nodded sharply.

"Why is that good?" Luke asked.

"I haven't missed too long with you." Anakin said, presenting it as though it was obvious.

Luke nodded.

"Oh."

"I'm sorry I woke you." Anakin said gently, wrapping the blanket, which had fallen off as Luke awoke, back around his shoulders. "I didn't know how to explain this to your friends."

"S'okay." Luke slurred.

Anakin held him close again. "I'm so glad to be back."

Luke simply smiled, still tired.

"I love you, Luke."

"I love you too, Father." Luke answered, pulling himself onto his hands and knees and crawling towards a ration pack, his father following in tentative concern. "Hungry?"

Anakin shrugged, so Luke took a nutrition bar from the pack and passed it to him before returning to get one for himself.

As he turned to move back to his own space on the floor, he saw his father smiling gently at him. "When this all blows over, promise me you'll sleep."

"I promise." Luke said, taking a bite out of the bar.

"Good." Anakin intoned.

"What do you think is going to happen next?"

"I have no idea. I mean, I was pretty sure I was dead."

"You_ were_ dead."

His father nodded. "And now I'm not. Obviously. And I have no idea what's going to happen next."

"Maybe Obi-Wan can explain it to us."

"Obi-Wan wasn't especially fond of explaining things when I knew him."

"No. I'm sure sometimes he would at least consider clearing something up, though."

"We can hope."

Luke looked his father up and down, "Yeah, I guess that's all we can do."


End file.
